Just a Pretty Face
by xodiizzyxo
Summary: Just a random story that popped into my head. A girl wonders why the Cullens act the way they do. Rosalie gives her something to ponder.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or anything associated with it. Yeah, I know. It sucks for me, too.**

* * *

I watched in disbelief as she held her hand out and studied her perfectly manicured nails. She shifted her gaze to the other hand, looking close at what appeared to be a chip in the polish. She curled her lip in disgust and reached into her bag. A few moments later she retrieved a bottle of nail polish. It was more of a pen, though, so I don't know what she was doing.

As she uncapped the pen and shook it, I'm sure my mouth started to gape. She had to be joking. But, alas, she was not. Rosalie Hale never joked about her nails. She laid the offending hand on her desk, not bothering to move her notes. Not that it really mattered, though. Why would she take notes? I had watched her countless days doodling or writing Mr. and Mrs. Emmett Cullen over and over. And over again.

Glancing up at the teacher, Rosalie started to fill in the gape. When she finished after a minute of meticulous polishing, she stuck the nail pen in her back pocket, swapping it for a thicker one. This one looked like a base coat, though. As she uncapped it, she shook it and pressed the bottom, watching the polish coat the nail polish brush.

Looking up once more at the teacher, she began to re-paint her nails, beginning with the no-longer-offensive thumb and moving down, switching to her right hand. I shook my head as she effortlessly painted the whole hand in a minute.

"Miss Hale?"

"Oh, uh, what was the question, Mister Coba?" I knew without looking that she was batting her eyelashes at our poor Spanish teacher.

"Español, Señorita Hale."

"Perdón. ¿Cuál era la pregunta Señor Coba?"

"Rosalie." He sighed. "Angela. Maybe you could enlighten Miss Hale? ¿ Por qué está pintando las uñas?"

"¡No sé que! ¿ Porque ella es vano?"

Some of the class snickered and Mr. Coba sighed. "Alright, alright, simmer down. You guys need to write a letter to anyone you choose on anything you want…as long as it is _school appropriate,_ yeah? I like my job." He looked directly at Rosalie, who was liable to write Emmett about her new lingerie. "Anyway, y'all can do whatever you want. I'll just pretend you bound and gagged me." He waved us off.

Rosalie pursed her lips, seeming to be upset about something but after a few seconds her freshly-painted hand went to her forehead, presumably checking for wrinkles. She rubbed her hand across her forehead a few times, smoothing it out and stuck her nail polish in her bag. I wondered briefly what kinds of things she kept in her bag. I knew, for example, she had her phone, nail polish and make-up bag in there. I wasn't sure what else. Obviously school books but damn that was a big bag.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and sat on my desk, putting my feet on the chair. Mike sat behind me, grinning.

"What's up, Mike?"

"Nothing much. What have you been doing? I haven't seen you in, like, ever." I smirked as he pretended to be a girl.

"You do that well, Newton."

"Ha ha ha. You're a card."

"No, Mike, I'm a girl. A person?" I crinkled my brows as if I were worried about him. I reached out and checked his forehead. "Feeling okay, Mike? You do know people, right?"

He snickered and lifted my hand off his forehead as the bell rang. I stood up and grabbed my bag and he held on to my hand as we walked to lunch. I sighed.

"What's up?"

"Oh, lunch means all I have left is PE, music and uh, that one class…"

"Study hall?"

"Yeah, that bu – Writing. I have writing. Easy classes for me for the rest of the day. Then tomorrow I'm free all day. Can you believe we haven't had any homework all day?"

Mike shook his head, his lips slightly pursed. He made it clear he figured we were going to have a ton in our next classes. "Yeah, well, you don't know everything, mister."

I put my books in my locker and stopped by Mike for him to put his away. As we walked to the cafeteria, I realized I left my wallet in my locker.

"Crap. I left my money in my locker."

"No problem." Mike grabbed his wallet and pulled out a five dollar bill, handing it to me.

"Mike," I whined.

"Just take it."

I sighed and made a big display out of taking the money from him. When we reached the cafeteria I went to the salad bar and he went over to the burgers.

I paid for my meal and went over to sit at our table. It was in the center of the room, but I didn't really mind it. It was comforting, knowing I had all those people around me. Mike always teased me because I liked being alone in a group of people. I wasn't big on random people talking to me, but I also hated being alone. It was like, if you're alone, what's the proof that anything's real? What's stopping something horrible from happening to you? Supposedly, more people got hurt within a few blocks of the home or while alone. Of course, my house was right off the back lot of the school. It was a minute to get to school [Thank goodness! I am perpetually running late!]. Therefore, it made me feel better to know I was surrounded by people. I looked forward to college when, hopefully, I could study the human mind.

A few seconds later, Mike joined me, sitting across from me. "So. Cullen isn't here today."

"Which one?"

"Edward."

Lauren, as annoying as she was, sat down next to Mike and added her two cents: "Yeah, what's up with that? I mean, the rest of them are still here, but he's not."

I glanced over my right shoulder. Sure enough, Edward was missing from the group. Rosalie was sitting so close to Emmett she might as well have been on his lap. Alice was staring at some cracks in the walls of our moldy [not really] old [yes, really] school [if you can call it that…]. She looked like she was in some kind of trance. Jasper traced patterns on her arm with his finger. I noticed not one of them was touching their lunches. I didn't know why they wasted money and food like that if they were just going to throw it away. It was kinda weird how everyone was stressing over money but, if anything, they bought more and more food every day. It confused me, but whatever.

"Don't know but get this: Rosalie was painting her nails in class. Coba asked her why she was doing that and she pretended she couldn't speak perfect Spanish and/or hadn't heard the question when you know she had and was more than capable of answering. Then he asked Angela, who said she didn't know but that it could be because she's vain. Rosalie pretended not to realize she had just been offended. Isn't that weird?"

Mike grunted. "I don't know why she pretends to be just a pretty face. She's as smart as any of the rest of them."

"They could all be in college, maybe even beyond. They could be curing cancer, ending world hunger, stopping global warming, working toward world peace. You know, that kind of thing. Then they could make their own money to waste on perfectly good meals during an economic crisis, instead of their parents'." It wasn't until everyone at our table snickered that I realized I had said that out loud. Oopsie. "No, really. They're easily the most gorgeous people in the school, city, state or wherever, probably." Mike protested, saying I was. I smacked his arm. "Honestly. They're probably some of the smartest, too. You'd think that instead of sleeping they studied."

"Well," Lauren added. "They certainly have the bags under their eyes to back up that statement."

"Yeah. Speaking of which, what's up with their eyes? They're, like, mood eyes."

Mike tugged on my ponytail. "Like your hair?"

My friends and family teased me because my hair changed color in different light. They all knew it was the lighting but they all joked it was my mood hair. Dark meant I was angry, light meant I was happy, when it had blond highlights, I was feeling dumb, when it was red I was angry, when it was normal I was neutral and when it was brown I was just generally happy. The weirdest part was, they were spot on most of the time.

"Yes, like my hair," I laughed with them. "But, really, you've never noticed that?"

Everyone nodded. The Cullens [or Hales] were different – everybody knew that. We just didn't know _how _different.

Lunch period ended and I threw my empty lunch tray away right as Alice danced up to throw her full one away. I stayed quiet.

Throughout the rest of the day, Rosalie and Jasper kept giving me funny looks. I pretended I didn't see them until study hall when Rosalie flicked me a piece of paper from the end of the long table we were at.

_It really bothers you that we don't eat our lunches?_

**Uh, yeah. It's a waste.**

_Of what?_

**Money, food, time. It's all an exercise in futility.**

She read my note and furrowed her brow, upset by what I had said. She thought for a few seconds, head tilted to the side, then scribbled out an answer, flicking the note to me.

_How old are you?_

**Seventeen.**

_You don't act like a seventeen-year-old._

**So? Neither do you and your 'siblings'.**

_Yes, well, hard times toughen even the softest of hearts._

I read her note, shocked once more by the intelligence of it. She was wise beyond her years, knowledgeable beyond her actions and complicated beyond her exterior. I pulled my lip into my teeth, a bad habit. I was thankful it was only that and not biting my nails or tapping my foot like some people I knew.

**Why do you act like you do?**

_Like what?_

Understanding was pasted across her face for a brief second before it succumbed to a perfectly composed mask of indifference - before it succumbed to the perfectly composed facade.

**Like you're just a pretty face ****when you're so much more…You're all so much more.**

_It's easier that way. If you're wise, you'll keep your nose on your face, where it belongs._

The bell rang then and Rosalie packed up her books and was out of the room at a pace slightly faster than everyone else. I watched her leave, confused and upset. I shook my head and shut my notebook, closed my textbook and stacked my note cards, putting them all in a pile in my bag and throwing it over my shoulder, grabbing a pen and a hair tie, walking out.

* * *

**Okay, so it sucked. I know. I don't know if I'll keep going or leave it at that. I guess that's up to you. The fate of Rosalie rests in your hands :] It's really short but that's what I intended. Anyway...I guess that's it. By the way, the main character? She doesn't really exist. She looks kinda like me but acts like all my friends together, so interpret that as you wish. I have some stuff to study for and then I need to figure out what the heck I'm doing after that. Yes, I'm that amazing. Oh, and, by the way? I'd love reviews for this. Especially nice ones for the birthday girl, yeah? Of course, mean ones mean you cared enough to tell me why you don't care, so I'll take those, too. I'm rambling now, huh?  
~Diizzy**


End file.
